


Presidential Punishment

by ufp13



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-21
Updated: 2010-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-29 05:20:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ufp13/pseuds/ufp13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill seeks punishment for his (non-)actions in the regard of the happenings around New Caprica. It comes in an unexpected form.<br/>Warning for BDSM</p>
            </blockquote>





	Presidential Punishment

This wasn’t what he had had in mind when he had voiced his desire, his need for punishment deeply rooted in his conscience. Punishment was his chosen path of cleansing his sin of allowing this disaster named New Caprica, this occupation to happen. He had expected her to either dismiss this wish or come up with a twisted solution only teachers would think of, for such solutions were as simple as they were devious. To his utter surprise, she hadn’t done either. Instead he found himself naked on his desk, his sight blocked by a scarf, his hands tied together, the other end of the rope secured somewhere. His legs were spread, with his feet tied to the table. The stance allowed him some but not too much room to move, to squirm. And squirm he did as the flat, probably wooden object – a ruler? – collided with his behind forcefully. Never had he entertained the thought of such treatment, never fantasized about it, never imagined he would be involved in such happenings, much less on the receiving end. Yet here he was, torn between being repulsed by the picture he presented, by the vulnerability and submission his posture displayed and being aroused by the image of Laura his mind created. Laura in her heels and her nicest underwear, her red mane falling unruly over her shoulders, glasses on her nose while she wielded the ruler, made it dance across his skin with the same skill a puppeteer displayed when handling a puppet. While he could not deny having had the cliché hot-for-teacher fantasies – he was just a man after all – this particular scenario had never entered his mind. He was a man who dominated, albeit rather gently, than he was one used to being dominated. Submission just didn’t correlate with his self-image, despite the nature of the military and its chain of command, of which he refused to think at the moment and hoped at the same it wouldn’t demand his attention right now. Never before had he been so thankful for his own quarters, a hatch that could be sealed with officers in front of it who followed his orders without question, especially those to not let anybody enter until further notice.

She had advised him rather firmly to give this order when she had arrived in his quarters earlier, the glint in her eyes, her expression telling him to do so without asking any questions. And, knowing her well, this was exactly what he had done, even though he had been unable to suppress his curiosity once the hatch was closed and they were sans audience, alone in his home again as they had been countless times before. However, he could feel that something was different, off.

It had started out rather harmless – as harmless as things could be when Laura Roslin kissed you, seduced you, stripped you, pushed you against your desk, rubbed her overdressed body against yours – before she had tied his hands together in one quick, clever move and told him in her best presidential, no-nonsense voice that she would honour his wish for punishment and that this was it and he was thus to follow her orders to a “T”: no protests, no questions, no resistance. Although unsure about where she was going and uncomfortable with the conclusion his mind had reached by putting together the premises, he nodded his consent.

One last kiss, one last long look into his eyes she had granted him before she had blindfolded him and tied him up, exercising a lesson of trust that went to a level they had never reached before.

At this point, she had still worn her heels, her skirt and her blouse, even though the latter was partly unbuttoned; that much he had accomplished. However, he had no way of knowing whether his mental image, his wishful thinking was true or at least close to reality or not. A pity, a torture, a thrill. There was no way he could believably deny that, not right now with his cock hard and throbbing against the edge of the desk. Punishment shouldn’t be enjoyable, mustn’t be enjoyable, at least that was what his mind told him, but one couldn’t misinterpret his traitorous body’s reactions. It tingled with arousal the same time it ached and tried to avoid the next hit – a misguided attempt considering the physical impossibility of him fusing with the desk. However, he couldn’t stop the instinctive reaction of his body to shy away from the pain and its source. As a soldier, he had known pain of various kinds and intensities throughout his life, had endured a lot of the physical kind during the war – the scars gracing his skin being proof of that – yet this was different.

The smacks weren’t what hurt most, though. It was the words which accompanied each slap after the first three, which had seemed to be a warm-up for Laura.

“You want to feel like the people down on the planet?” She kept it general, didn’t make it personal between the two of them. “You want to know the treatment in detention? Feel the pain that gnawed at their hearts? The tugs of fear? You want to know about the madness of people blowing themselves up?” All the while, her voice never faltered, never trembled, remained steady and almost monotonous. It held not accusation, no challenge beyond the words. She didn’t really want to do that, he was sure. More than once, she had let him know one way or the other that she thought that he had suffered enough on his ship, having left behind the people, loved ones, family, feeling as if he had abandoned them, that he was beating himself up over this more than necessary, more than deserved. After all, he had returned, had risked his life and ship to free them. Yet, she did this, did this for him, knowing he needed it to wander forward on the path of salvation. Even though he hadn’t picked the manner in which he was punished, and certainly wouldn’t have come up with this, it seemed fitting, probably because it was against his nature, and would thus remain a one-time experience – just like New Caprica if he had anything to say about it.

Contrary to her, he didn’t have such a tight reign over his voice. Time and again, he hissed, moaned or groaned as the device collided with his flesh, the sounds increasing with the soreness of his skin. He would surely feel it for a few days to come. Another pain was added by the bindings. Although Laura hadn’t made the knots too tight, his writhing had changed that so the fabric rubbed against his skin, slightly cutting into it with each move he made. He had the control over this factor but couldn’t control himself. Also benefitting from this was his erection, being stimulated by the movements against the wood.

It was driving him crazy. He wanted her to stop, wanted her to end his torture but wasn’t sure anymore if these two things equalled one another. With her, the lines blurred – they always did. Between right and wrong, hate and love, pain and passion. Between humiliation, embarrassment and trust.

Like a machine, she continued delivering slaps and words until he couldn’t take it anymore, begged her to consider his penance paid, to release him as he had learned his lesson.

One last blow hit him wordlessly then he heard her put the object aside. Moments later, the pressure on the ties of his feet ceased, enabling him to follow her request to turn around. It was an awkward moving – he wasn’t the youngest anymore and her treatment had done the rest – but he managed, eventually resting on his back on the desk, his legs dangling over the edge, his erection lying against his stomach. Despite the pain which had diminished his arousal with time, it wouldn’t take much for him to come. However, he had called it stops before that could have happened as he considered remaining unsatisfied part of the punishment.

Gently, she removed the blindfold. Upon opening his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of her face hovering mere inches above his. He blinked a few times and then focused his gaze on the green eyes which captivated him again and again. His other senses were stimulated by her as well; he could smell her, could feel her hair tickling his skin. His desire to taste her she granted some seconds later as if she could read his mind.

When he attempted to embrace her still clothed, though, to bury his hands in her hair, he became once more aware of the restraints still holding his hands at bay.

“Laura,” he spoke her name softly in a request.

However, she just smiled and shook her head. “You wanted to feel as the people of New Caprica felt,” she said. “You felt pain as they did; it only seems fair that you feel the joy they did as well when you rescued them.” With that, she touched her lips to his again and deepened the connection, caressing his tongue with hers.

There it was, the simple but twisted logic he had expected when he had first uttered his need. She wouldn’t leave him with pain between them; too much had happened for that. They carried too much love for each other in their hearts. Only then he realised what he had really asked of her. It would be impossible for him to hurt her without hurting himself, and he didn’t doubt that the same was true for her as well.

She must have seen the remorse cloud his eyes for she grabbed his face with both hands, looking him straight in the eyes. “I chose this,” she stated firmly. All he could do was nod in response. It seemed enough, and it was.

Never breaking the eye contact, she gracefully hoisted herself onto the desk, her heels tumbling to the floor in the motion. With one hand, she reached for his hard length, rubbed it tenderly while the other one found its way into his hair where it started a slow journey down to his neck, along his jaw, her fingertips grazing his rough features. A lover’s touch. Lots of stolen hours they had spent like that on the planet, touching each other, learning each other, loving each other.

Under her ministrations, his arousal reached new heights. He wanted nothing more than to pull her onto his lap or grab her and roll her body underneath his. But he was powerless, doomed by the ties that bound his hands. And it was impossible for him to reach her with his legs. He was at her mercy – literally. With words, he tried to soften her, and it didn’t take long, although longer than he had cared for, until his beseeching was successful.

Finally indulging him, she ridded herself of her panties, dropping them carelessly next to the desk. She then gathered the material of her skirt around her waist – it would need some flattening later, but it wouldn’t be the first time – settled herself on his thighs and began to slowly undo the remaining buttons of her blouse. To his surprise, she didn’t take it off, though, rather pushed the material of her bra cups aside to bare her breasts to his eyes. He swallowed hard at the wanton display. Definitely an image that would haunt his sleeping as well as his waking hours for a long time to come, not that he was complaining about that.

Her smug grin told him she had noticed his reaction, that she knew what she was doing to him, had aimed for such a reaction. Sneaky woman. He could do naught but smile in return as he was not ashamed of desiring her, especially when she offered herself like that.

Leaning down to kiss the scar intersecting his chest – a memento of another time when they had almost lost each other – she slid along his erection, causing him to moan desperately. Obviously having decided to finally give him what his body demanded against his mind’s resolve, she didn’t linger but got onto her knees to then lower herself onto his cock. Now, her moan mingled with his. He adored the soft sounds she made when they made love almost more than he enjoyed her scream in ecstasy when she climaxed hard.

Mentally cursing the bindings and her for not releasing him, he watched her riding them both to completion. He longed to cup her breasts, to trail his hands along her curves, to hold onto her hips, but he was doomed to only look.

Feeling her inner walls clench his cock was the final straw that broke his mind’s control, made him surrender to his body’s need for release. He came hard, his pelvis bucking against hers, applying pressure to his sore behind in the process, but such was drowned by the climatic bliss.

While he tried to catch his breath, she lay down on him, yet keeping him inside of her.

A bit ahead of his body, his mind kicked in again, processing the happenings of the last hour to eventually reach the conclusion that he had taken but not given in return.

“Laura?” He bent his head to kiss the top of her.

“Bill.” She raised her head and looked at him.

“Untie me.” It was as much a plea as it was a question.

In answer, she crawled up his body, thus breaking their connection, and loosened the knots, rubbing his wrists, placing a kiss on each before letting go of them. The moment she had done so, he reached for her thighs and urged her a bit further upward until he could reach her hot centre with his mouth. His pride wouldn’t allow him to not repay her for what she had done for him, to him, with him.

As his tongue, lips and teeth worked in unison, sampling her taste, teasing her, pushing her nearer and nearer to the edge, she didn’t remain still, braced her hands on the desk, moved her hips, riding his tongue. He tried to draw out the pleasure for as long as possible, for as long as she would let him. Upon her demand, he pushed her over the edge, relishing the reward of her cries.

Panting heavily, she slid down his body again, resting once more on him.

“You didn’t have to,” she breathed.

He shook his head. “Thank you.”

“Just don’t ask it again anytime soon,” she replied, confirming his assumption about the shared hurt. “Although,” he could feel her smile against his chest, “some of it...” She reached for a tie and waved it lightly, the suggestion unmistakable.

 

= End =


End file.
